Ghost Recon: The Next Generation: Into The Fire
by Demac
Summary: This story won't have new chapters for a while; writing four stories at one time was just too much.
1. The Message

Welcome to Panama, 2015.

Elequemedo Osjami Castro has overthrown the dictator and taken control of all Cuban Territories.

The elite team of Ghost Recon is being sent in at 0400 hours.

They must not be seen or heard.

The new recruits, James Richardson and Howard Johnson, are on the plane now.

They will arrive at 0300 hours, and leave with the rest of the group at 0400 hours.

Team Alpha will be dropped off at the first point, and the Team Bravo will be dropped off at the fifth point.

Reinforcements will be sent to Havana on the 17th of December at 1400 hours...

-A excerpt from a message sent to General Hunter at 0700 hours from the 3rd point, Austin Texas.


	2. The Talk

James Richardson read the top of the page; "Please sign in." He look at the dirtied clock on the wall and wrote down the time and his name. An iraqi woman behind the counter shouted into her earpiece as she motioned for him to take a seat in a green plastic chair against the wall opposite the clock. James coughed into his elbow several times, his chest heaving with pain. He sat, but the chair seemed to bend under his weight, so he put most of his weight on his feet.

Before long, a man came and opened a door beside the clock. "Reecharsoon, Jeemes?" He stood and grinned at the man's thick Cuban accent. James followed him through the hall behind the wooden door and was led to another room, smaller than the first. "Doo you have eeny ideentificatoon on you?" James tried to hide his smile as he pulled out his ID card. The man took it, glanced at it, and gave it back. "General Gleen be wid you een mooment." James said, "I'm here for General Green..." "That whad I say. General Gleen." James nodded, shoving his mouth into his palm and feigning a cough to keep from laughing. "You sit theere, and He be here een momeent."

A few minutes later, a man about his age entered the room examining a piece of paper filled with black writing. He was muttering to himself the words aloud, but James only caught "James," "Alpha," and he thought he heard "water buffalo." the man sat down in a chair across from James. Only then did the man seem to notice him. "I'm Jimmy Green, it's nice to meet you James Richardson, son of Dennis Richardson, employee of FedEx who had 23 detention in one month back in high school, and played football all four years of his high school career at Thornton High school in North Dakota."

James gaped his mouth opened. "How did you know all that?!" Jimmy laughed and replied, "We have to know everything about you before you can be accepted." James looked skeptical. "Accepted?" Jimmy nodded and looked at him closely. "Yes. Accepted. You sent in an application to a recruiter. Well, that recruiter decided your skills were far beyond that of the average soldier. He told us you were Recon material."

James narrowed his eyes. "You aren't making any sense. Recon?" Jimmy nodded, grinning. "Yeah. Ghost Recon is an elite team of soldiers sent in on the most dangerous missions." James nodded. "I see. But what does this have to do with accepting me?" Jimmy nodded. "I was getting there. Anyways, you were medically tested last month, and everything showed up good and perfectly healthy, so we brought you here. If you are willing to accept, the income is twice that of an average soldier's, and the GI bill is given within the first year. The only disclaimer is the risk and th commitment. Joining us requires a 4 year commitment, eight to ten months a year."

James nodded. "I see. Where will I be sent if I joined?" "Point 1. Bayama in Eastern Cuba. There is an airfield about 45 miles away where a helicopter could easily land." James sighed, and looked at the man. "I need you to answer something honestly. Is there a much higher risk of dying?" Jimmy thought a moment and shook his head. "No. But the chances of getting captured are higher." James grinned. "That is all I needed to know. When do I get sent off?" Jimmy looked confused. "Weren't you told to pack bags already?" The new recruit nodded. "Yes sir." Jimmy smiled and replied, "Then you should go pick up your Alpha Team ID from the A Hallway before your helicopter leaves in an hour." James nodded and stood with The General. "And James?" "Yes sir?" "Don't call me sir. You are just as important as me now." James laughed and nodded. "Alright... Jimmy."

* * *

Howard Johnson sat on a plastic green chair in the waiting room, sitting his hand on his plump stomach. He was very large, and not quick or good with the gun, but he was smart. His GPA in High School was 4.27; he was a Strategic Designer for the Alpha and Bravo squads of Ghost Recon. He looked at the man sitting beside him and chuckled. "You look nervous. It's a very simple talk, don't be worried. You look strong; I'm sure you'll be accepted." He smiled toothily at the young man, who did not smile back. "Why are you talking to me? I am not of you, so do not pickle me." He obviously did not speak very good English; perhaps he wouldn't be accepted.

He yawned, and looked at the door. He was waiting on a James Richardson, because he was supposed to take him to the Alpha Sector to receive his ID. Before long, the young man came out, looking confident and ready. Howard struggled to stand up, his knees weak from sitting so long. "James Richardson?" He said in a weak and pained voice. The young man looked at him. "Yes sir?" Howard finally stood upright; still, he was shorter and fatter the the muscular young man, who seemed to be more than 6" feet tall. "I'm supposed to take you to the Alpha Sector."

James nodded and followed the man, seemingly less confident then before somehow. Howard led him very slowly to the A Hallway. "So Mr. Richardson," Howard said in an attempt to start a conversation. "What are they taking you on as?" James furrowed his eyebrows together, his forehead creasing. "What?" Howard chuckled a deep throaty chuckle. "Look at the paper he gave you." James looked down at the half-sheet of paper and read it.

_Dear James Richardson  
We are happy to congratulate you on your acceptance onto our squad. We are elite, and we would gladly like to give you a position as_ **2nd wingman. **_If you have any questions about your position, your duties and requirements, your food rations, or anything else, please contact_ **Jimmy Green_ at _555-7534 _or contact _Howard Johnson_ at _555-8730.**_ Thank you for visiting our office, please come again if you have any medical forms to return. Please get your ID before boarding your helicopter number_ **92.  
-Juanita, Assistant of Jimmy Green's Office manager, Terri Kiefer**

James looked up from the simple paper and back to the slow-moving Howard. "Are you going to be on the helicopter too?" Howard nodded. "Yes sir, I will. Number 92. Just wait till you meet the rest of the squad. I met them last week. They are a... diverse group." James looked puzzled. "As in..." Howard chuckled and replied oddly, "Never mind." James looked at him, but he was still befuddled. "What do you mean diverse?" Howard chuckled at his persistence, so he shrugged and chuckled once more. "Just the fact that there is only one girl on the whole Ghost Recon Committee and she is on Alpha squad with you" James nodded slowly, his eyes sparkling with a million questions.

But, even though the questions he had threatened to spew from his mouth in a flurry of words, he held his tounge and asked only one. "Are you nervous?" Howard looked at James, and couldn't help but pity the boy's lack of confidence. "James," he replied calmly. "There is nothing to be nervous about." The recruit took a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you." Howard grinned and faced the hallway before them. "Alright, not much further. Are you ready to meet your team?" James laughed. "I was born for this."

* * *

_A/N: The new and revised first chapter_


	3. The Helicopter

Howard chuckled as they reached a hallway with a small sign reading "Alpha Hall". "Usually they call me Howard, never Howie." James smiled. "So I just call you Howard, got it." He smiled, before opening large double doors on their right. When James peaked in, there were several people in uniforms doubled over laughing. When the door creaked open, their laughter died away slowly. The tallest and largest of the soldiers looked up and at James. He had a somewhat sinister look on his face, as though before he had even met James he wished to gouge his eyes out with a spoon.

"And who is he?" The man asked, as though James were not even there. Howard chuckled and replied happily, "This is James Richardson. We're here for his ID badge." The man snorted. "New recruit, eh?" James shrugged. "I guess so." The man stood to his tallest and puffed his chest out. "I'm Brian. You take orders from me, and no one else. You don't breathe without my ok, you hear me son?"

James glared into his eyes, puffing his own chest out; he was not as big and tal as himl. "Get out of my face." Brian laughed, a hint of hatred in the chuckle, although that was usually what people did when they were happy. "Get out of your face?" He leaned down, his face a mere inch away; James did not budge. "You will not give me orders, I will give them to you! If I ever here you open your-" Howard shoved the two men apart. "Gentlemen!" He shouted. Brian heaved his chest breathing in and out, his nostrils flaring.

Howard glared at him. "He takes orders from me and Jimmy. You are his rank, and he is yours." He turned his head towards James slightly. "Do NOT take orders from him." Brian shoved Howard away from him before stomping out of the double doors.

The three soldiers that had been with Brian were grinning at James. The shortest of the three, the woman, grinned. "Wow," she said. "I've never seen a Newb stick up to that jerk before." James shrugged. "He got in my face." One of the other soldiers, a man, stuck his hand out to James. "I'm Lindsay." James held in his laughter at the man's girly name. Not only was his name girly, but his voice was very calm, sweet, and high. He wasn't girly in form though; he was actually larger then James, and had dark skin and joyful eyes. He gave his hand a tight squeeze and a quick shake.

The other soldier with them stuck his hand out as well. "Kayden." He firmly shook his hand also. The woman stuck out her hand; her handshake was given quite a bit more gentle. "I'm Sierra." James smiled. "Nice to meet you all. I'm James." Howard laughed happily and said, "Alright, enough introductions, let's not overwhelm him. He needs his badge." Sierra smiled sweetly and led the two men, Kayden and Lindsay following close behind, to a white wall with a door to their left.

Howard pressed his thumb against a dark blue square on the wall. A white line fell and rose slowly across it. When it reached the top once more, Howard pulled his hand away. James heard a faint clicking in the door to their left, and Sierra opened it up. "Come on, hurry up." She smirked, her form dissapearing into the dim light of the room beyond.

The men and the woman walked through, Kayden propping the door open with the toe of his boot. Howard picked James' tag up from the table inside and then walked back out. James followed quickly, not wanting to be left in the room with Lindsay. Lindsay, larger then even Brian, was quite intimidating. He had a long scar that went from the edge of his right eye to his jaw, down his neck, and then dissapeared into his chest.

The four men and Sierra walked quickly to the helicopter pad on the other side of the building. Kayden said, "We want to get their early in case it leaves early or something." Howard agreed, since he was a new recruit, as well as Jimmy, and knew nothing about the preciseness of the Military. James could tell that Kayden seemed able to control the entire group, despite him being the smallest and skinniest.

The soldiers scanned their fingerprints on a blue square before walking outside on the HeliPad. There was their helicopter sitting on a square, the propellers already spinning. Kayden shouted over the whirring, "We get on, and wait for General Green!" James nodded, following Kayden towards the helicopter quickly. Howard lagged behind, gasping for breath when he reached the helicopter.

It was more like a very open airplane, as it was very large and fast. The soldiers piled in; James squished between Lindsay and Sierra. Sierra sighed. "This will be a very uncomfortable ride." Lindsay laughed softly. "I'm sorry I take up so much room... Perhaps I should walk?" The soldiers laughed in unison. Howard replied, "Just think, in a few minutes, Brian AND Jimmy will have to squish in here too." Kayden frowned. "Oh, fun. Sharing anything with Brian sucks, let alone being stuck in a helicopter with him for two hours, squished."

James laughed and said, "I pity you." Sierra giggled. "I'm by James and Kayden, so I lucked out." LIndsay smiled. "I'm by James and... a wall. I feel very sorry for you both." Howard chuckled loudly. "I'm by the pilot and I'm not squished, because I called shotgun." Sierra rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah, we all know of your amazing Shotgun abilities." The group roused laughter once more. Kayden looked out the window and rolled his dark green eyes. "Here comes Brian. Prepare to be squished even more."

Howard frowned. "The good news is Jimmy is with him." Lindsay laughed a little. "Jimmy looks like a midget next to him." Sierra giggled.

Several moments later, Brian squished between Kayden and the wall. Jimmy climbed into the back as well, stting between Lindsay and the wall. The passive man didn't complain about losing his beloved wall seat. Between the back seat holding the six soldiers and the front seat holding Howard and the pilot was about 7 feet. The sides of this area was open, with no doors or railing. The only thing holding the six soldiers in the helicopter was a single strap that stretched across the entire seat and a handle bar on the ceiling of the Military Helicopter.

After a few minutes of waiting for the pilot to arrive in silence, the door beside the Pilot's seat was closed. Gary, the skilled Pilot of the helicopter, looked back and said, "Woah," he laughed a little. "Quite a load full, eh?" James noted the Canadian heritage of the man speaking. "Well, we best get going. As safety precautions I have to go through the emergency procedures... Plus I get paid for that part.

"In case of the propellers shutting off due to weather, collision, or any other cause, please open this shelf-" he pushed in a button and slid it slightly to the right, and the cabinet opened "-and get a parachute." He paused from his shouting over the Helicopter's purring. "I'm counting eight of us, correct?" Howard shouted, "Yes sir!" The Pilot continued, "Alright, then we are 2 parachutes short. That means two people will double up before jumping from the plane."

Gary scanned the group. "Well, the dark guy-" he motioned to Lindsay, referring to his dark skin "-Will have to go alone, 'cause he is..." Lindsay laughed. "Large?" Gary laughed along. "I was gonna say manly. Anyways, I will double with the smallest... You." He pointed at Kayden, who looked at his shoes at the comment of his size. "And the next two smallest will double up as well." Jimmy looked at the group. "That's me and Sierra."

The Pilot continued. "In the case of the plane spontaneously combusting -not likely, but it could happen- jump out of these two opened doors on the sides, or out of this emergency door in the flooring." He opened and closed it to demonstrate how. "In the case of me spontaneously having an annuarism or some other sudden death, Howard will take control and fly this thing. If he is unable to take control, parachute from the Helicopter and leave me in the Pilot's seat.

"In the case of a gas leak or a storm and we are forced to land, the emergency supplies are right here." Gary opened a box that was screwed to the floor of the Helicopter. He stood back up and added, shouting over the whirring, "Alright, are we ready to get going?"

No one replied.

Kayden asked out loud, "Has any of that stuff actually ever happened to you?" Gary thought for a moment, "Yeah, one time I died of a annuarism." They laughed.

The Pilot sat in his seat and slipped his black helmet over his wiry silver hairs. Over the speaker his voice came, "Ready for departure."

Jimmy, against the wall, pulled a long strap from the side of his seat and shouted, "Pass it down!" They passed the belt along to Brian, who then clipped it tightly to the opposite end. Gary pressed a few switches down and several switches up. An even louder whirring started up as the propellers moved faster and faster until the Pilot lifted them off the ground.

James looked out the large open sides of the helicopter. Already, the large building they had been in not even an hour ago was shrinking. No one spoke; Even if they did, no one would be able to hear them over the roaring winds. It was also very cold, so perhaps all of their mouths were frozen shut.

After an extremely long time of flying, the Pilot's voice came over the intercom. "We are less then 45 minutes away." They all cheered, but their voices were carried away by the rushing winds. They were not even 150 feet from the ground, but it was still very windy.

In the distance, like a sudden and dangerous storm, a brown cloud rose from the ground. The dust and dirt flew towards the helicopter, devouring everything on the ground in it's darkness. Gary came over the intercom. "I will attempt to land. Prepare the parachutes just in case.

No one got up. At long last, James sighed, and slid out from the belt. Suddenly, the winds began to pull at him. He grabbed the railing on the floor and dropped to his knees, crawling with the railing. He reached the cabinet and opened it.

The backpacks were hanging on hooks in the back of the cabinet. He pulled two off their hook and put one on, carrying the other while crawling back to the group. He handed Jimmy one, and then pulled the one off his back and gave it to Lindsay. He crawled back over, and grabbed two more, repeating the process till only the Pilot and Sierra didn't have one. Gary came over the intercom.

Suddenly, the sand was upon them. They couldn't see two inches in front of them; if they even opened their eyes dust and dirt would fill them. They could not open their mouths to scream, and they had to breathe through their noses, filling them with dirt and dust. Gary came over the intercom. "Stand and ready the parachutes..."

The group stood, clasping the railing, and started to put their backpacks on. "No... No time! JUMP NOW!" The group screamed as the helicopter titled to one side violently. The entire group slid down the floor and toppled out of the side of the helicopter. They screamed as they fell, the wind ripping their skin from all sides.

Suddenly, their bodies sliced through water.

It was very warm, but the sudden impact knocked the wind from their lungs. They resurfaced after a few seconds. Kayden looked around. "Where's Sierra?" James looked at the water, and saw bubbles that were popping at the surface. He dove under, and opened his eyes: Freshwater.

He saw Sierra, violently trying to unstrap herself from her backpack. She had had it half way strapped on when the helicopter titled, and hitting the water it had gotten waterlogged and heavy. She couldn't resurface for air. James pulled out a knife and cut away quickly at the straps of the backpack. As soon as the straps cut loose, the two swam quickly for the surface.

They gasped for air up top. Lindsay sighed in relief. "I thought you were a goner. I was 'bout to cry." Sierra continued to gasp for air. Jimmy said, "I knew I should've taken the backpack first, I shouldn't have given it to you... You almost died... I'm sorry..." She could only gasp for air. Kayden replied, "Thats means 'It's ok.'"

James finally caught his breath and said, "We should get to shore." Sierra continued to gasp for air, as though she was... crying?

He looked at her and said, "Sierra, what's wrong?" She continued to sob, and pointed to the flames barely visible in the sand storm. "Howard..." She whispered. The flames didn't understand her plead, and continued to burn away at the crash site of the Helicopter.

* * *

_A/N: The new and revised second chapter_


	4. The Journey

Kayden shouted, "Oh, crap!" The group wildly swam for the shore, shouting Howard and Gary all the way there. James reached first, his lungs heaving with pain from gasping in water. He darted off towards the flames, the dust finally settling. He was very close to the flames when he could hear coughing and see the helicopter laying on it's side. Lindsay was the second to reach the crash site. He immediately began to lift burning trash and throw it towards the shallow pond they had landed in. "Throw it in! We have to stop the fires!" Brian picked the burning trash up that Lindsay had thrown and chucked it into the water. They continued while James, Jimmy, and Sierra clawed through the debri, searching for Howard and Gary. James reached Howard at last. He was coughing and gagging because the smoke was slowly clogging his throat.

James pulled a knife out and quickly began to cut at the strap around Howard's waist. The moment it snapped, Howard went tumbling from the helicopter. James pushed himself against the edge of the door to keep from falling the two feet to the ground. "I have to find Gary!" He shouted through the flames. He grabbed the edge of the seat and pulled himself up. His whole body strained and burned as he pulled himself up. He was then sitting on the side of a crooked Co-Pilot's chair. He stood quicly, reaching up to touch Gary. Where his solid ribcage should've been, James felt solid metal. He pulled himself up against the control board and waved his hand before his own face, clearing the smoke slightly.

Gary sat relaxed, a large piece of metal from the propeller protruding from his side. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and nose, his side gushing blood as well. James quickly looked away. He groped at Gary's neck before finding what he needed. He jerked his arm up and then back after grasping what he had wanted, and jumped from the helicopter. He wiped silent tears from his eyes and walked slowly back to the group, where Howard sat drinking water. Lindsay tossed another piece of burning debri to Brian as James walked up. Sierra's face fell. "Where's Gary?"

James held up the stolen gift; Gary's helmet. Sierra hid her face into her arms. Lindsay began to openly cry into Howard's shoulder, the sleeve of the plump man soon becoming drenched. Kayden ran a hand through his hair before kicking a piece of debri on the ground. James lay back in the sand, staring up at the hazy and cloudless sky. Howard coughed before replying, his voice cracking. "There will be many more deaths, my friends. This is why we must end this war before any more innocent people die." No one replied for a long time.

At long last, Jimmy looked up from his silent stare at the sand. "If we want to live to see the end of this war, we better get a move on. We don't have much food or water." James looked at the small flask of water that Howard held. "Where's the food?" Jimmy grinned and replied playfully, "Last one to the nearest village is dinner!" They all laughed, but did not race; Howard's lungs were still filled with smoke from the crash, and he did not need to be running. The troops understood. They walked at a hasty pace, as Howard finished their last few sips of water. Kayden scanned the sand dunes around him. "I'm pretty sure I saw a town over that dune right there."

Brian snorted. "I'm sure you did. Either that or your dying of thirst and having hallucinations. If Howard hadn't drank all of the water..." Lindsay looked shocked. "Howard has been a part of a traumatic crash, and can barely breathe!" James mumbled, "I wish Brian had been part of a traumitic crash and couldn't breathe..." Kayden snickered under his breath. "Good one," he whispered.

* * *

Indeed, there was no town on the other side of the dune. When looking down from the helicopter, the village had seemed to be very close. Walking on foot through a desert with no water made the town seem an eternity away. Days and nights passed, the troop growing more cranky and tired and sore from walking. Their feet grew raw from the sand grains in their boots. Their lungs grew weak from the lack of water. Their bodies seemed to be deteriorating day by day.

With every step their muscles burned in agony, screaming with pain. Their breathing was too short, and dry coughs began to overcome their moments of conversation. Silence consumed the group, for if they spoke, their insides ached. Their weak joints struggled to climb the dunes, threatening to make the soldiers pass out after every ascent.

After almost three days of walking amidst the torture, they stood atop a dune to rest. James squinted into the sun, his heart speeding up. Could it be? He squinted harder, his eyes almost closing from the strain. "Is that..." Jimmy smiled and replied loudly, "Yeah, I think it is!" Howard stood weakly and squinted as well. "It is!" They all took off running, adrenaline fueling their dash to the village!

As they crested the next dune, they could see people bustling around a market. Jimmy laughed joyfully. "Food!" Howard thought for a moment as they began to walk quickly towards the town. "We need to find HQ. The food here is unhealthy and infected by the commoner's diseases." Jimmy and Kayden ignored them, purchasing all the food they could with their little amount of money. James, Lindsay, Brian, and Sierra followed Howard's advice and refused to take even a bite.

Jimmy grinned and replied, "More for me." He stuffed all the food he could into his mouth. His much smaller comrad, Kayden, matched his hunger and speed, shoveling food down his throat. When they had fiinished, the troop stood and began to search the town for HQ. There, they would be able to eat healthy food and drink water and get rest.

At long last, they found a building with a sign on the front that read in English, "Black Rose." That was the hidden name for the HQ in Bayamo. Jimmy led the group into the front room and leaned on the counter. "Please, we are the alpha squad. There was a terrible sandstorm three days walk from here. Our pilot died, and we are all very hungry." The woman stood and called into the back room, "Llegan! Senor Juan!" She then spoke English. "Go back into that room, gentleman... and lady." Sierra smiled as she followed the gentlemen into the back room.

A man stood in there, waiting for them. "You were expected three days ago..." It was obvious the stress of their late arrival consumed him as he massaged his temples before looking up at them. "I apologize for your troubles." he added, motioning towards a table against the small with sandwiches on there. Howard chuckled happily. "Thank you. We warned the group not to eat the Market's food, but two of ours did not listen." The man looked extremely concerned. "I will be right back with a medication..."

Jimmy looked puzzled. "But I feel fine!" Howard looked at him. "Do you?" The young man looked at him and blinked. "Yes sir I do." Not even five minutes later, Kayden was doubled over, side by side with Jimmy, puking out all the diseased food they had eaten. The man that had the medicine patted their backs. "I'm so sorry, boys. Only a few more hours of this and then I can give you the medication." A nurse came in and swept the two sick soldiers off to be in the bathroom where they could dispose of their vomit.

Howard frowned. "Well, on the bright side, we get ham sandwiches and water..." He grabbed three of them and began to nibble. His throat was still sore from the smoke, but he was too hungry to care. Brian began to shovel in a sandwich along with Lindsay. Like a lady, Sierra practically inhaled her sandwich and then belched loudly. "Excuse me," she said like a woman of true etiquette. James ate his quickly as well. Never had he gone three days without food...

The man finally cleared his throat and said in a loud voice, "Gentlemen... and lady... I'm Lorence. Welcome to Bayamo. Officially... We were hoping to send you on your mission tomorrow. As originally planned, that would've been four complete days of training. But, as your two hungry soldiers are sick and your man Howard's lungs are still filled with smoke, it will be another week or two before we will send you out." Howard looked slightly guilty.

Lorence continued. "We will have you all sleeping in a hidden underground room. If Cuban soldiers search the building at night, you will all be perfectly hidden and safe down there. When you have all finshed eating, we would like to have a make-shift funeral for the lost pilot." Lorence nodded to the troop before leaving the room. The last-minute funeral hit the squad with the sudden reality of Gary's death. Not even 4 days ago he had been cracking jokes. Today, sitting in the base hidden within the walls of a coffee shop called the Black Rose, seemed like a whole other lifetime.

Howard looked at the group and noticed the look of uncertainty in their faces. "The funeral is just the ceremony, my friends. Gary still lives on in our hearts." Brian groaned. "Enough with the cheesy proverbs Ghandi." He grabbed two more sandwiches and left the room in search of the underground rooms. The small window in the corner of the room seemed to let a few rays in through the broken blinds; they seemed to fall on the helmet James had taken. It sat on a chair, reflecting the light from the covered window to everyone in the room.

James sighed. He hadn't even gotten to know Gary that well, and then he passed away.

* * *

_A/N: The new and revised third chapter_


	5. The Result

James twisted the fork in his hand, the noodles in his bowl wrapping themselves around the prongs. He then dipped it into the small cup of butter at the middle of the table. Chatter from his comrades buzzed around him, like a thousand bees pointlessly swarming a honey-comb.

Since Gary had died, everything seemed pointless and irrelevant to the big picture of life.

Why did humans go to the Movie Theater, when thousands of people are dying everyday? Why did soldiers have to wear uniforms, when all they do is shoot down another man with a life and a family waiting anxiously at home? Why did people have to buy name brand clothes, when people all across the world sat naked and starving, homeless and dirty?

How was Gary to know he would die that afternoon? Everyday, Gary woke up before the sun. He ate a bowl of cereal, and kissed him family goodbye as they slept soundly in their beds. Everyday, he boarded his helicopter number 92 and flew soldiers to various locations. How was he to know that after lifting off of the HeliPad that afternoon, that he would never see his family again?

How did James know that he would not die in the next few minutes, just like Gary was there and suddenly gone? What if he 'spontaneously had an annuarism' before he could even take his next bite? How could he be so confident in the fulfillment of his life that he was sure he could fight as a Ghost and not die, leaving behind his girlfriend and his new found friends like Gary had left behind a wife and six kids? How could anyone on Earth even leave their houses without the fear of death gripping them like an iron fist?

Subconsciously, he continued twisting the fork, the noodles gripping the fork as the pending death of every living thing gripped his mind. The inevitable death that clung to the future of his friends Kayden, Sierra, Howard, and Lindsay, his mom and dad, his girlfriend Jackie, and even his dog Sparky seemed to be following them everywhere, waiting to strike them just as it had struck Gary.

Life itself even seemed pointless to James, now.

As he sat there twirling his fork, dipping it in flavorful butter, and eating it mechanically, Howard studied his face. He frowned at the look of deep depression on his friend's face. "Kayden," he whispered. "Do you think James-" "I possessed by the demon of depression? Yeah." Howard's frown deepened as his comrade continued. "All joke's aside, I'm worried about him. I think it's about Gary, too. Often, soon after the first death occurs in a squad, you will go through depression, anger, denial..." Kayden nodded. "It happened to me after my first fight, when Joey Wong died," he replied in a hushed tone. "We all did after our first fight. It's hard, being in war. He'll have to learn to deal with it, like we did."

Howard's frown lingered on his face. "Losing Gary was hard for all of us, but I'm especially worried about James." Lindsay leaned in and joined the conversation. "It's called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Depression is just one of the symptoms." Howard's frown lines deepened. "This does not bode well, friends."

* * *

James timidly lay down on his bed. The loud and hesitant CREAK the bed made reminded James of the squeek of the Helicopter's propellers slowing to a stop as he climbed into the Cockpit, groping out for Gary...

The Flashback suddenly ended, his face sweaty. He reached up and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Sweat felt like...

Blood. Blood spurting from Gary's stomach, where the metal was protruding. Blood poured out like a waterfall, covering everywhere in the Cock pit in mortal red. Blood dripping from the corner of his mouth after James removed his helmet...

The flashback ended, James' hands sticky with sweat. He put a hand on his racing heart, hoping it would slow down.

After a little while, he fell asleep. But only for a moment, as nightmares consumed his thoughts.

_"James," a voice whispered out of the smoke in front of his eyes. "Jaaaames," it whispered softer. "Where are you?" "James," the voice said a little louder. He looked up from the smoke to see flames enveloping Gary's impaled body. "I wasn't dead when you left me, James." James' hands grew sweaty. "Yes you were, yes you were, yes you were!" "No I wasn't! I burned slowly to death, the flames eating my flesh..." As he spoke, the flames crawled up his skin, eating at his neck and chest. "I burned slowly to an ash, alive through it all. I felt my lungs burning, burnt holes letting air escape. I couldn't breath, my lungs didn't hold what I inhaled... The smoke burned as it went down my throat, out my lungs, and into my chest. My bones were breaking from the heat, like play dough in the oven..." James' heart raced, the images flashing before him. "Watch me die, James Richardson." As the flames licked at Gary's eyes, James' let out a blood curdling scream._

Howard burst through the locked door, James a sweaty mess on his bed, the scream lingered in the air.

"James!" He shouted, startling the man from his sleep. He emitted another scream at the sight of another man in his room. "Howard! Don't scare me like that!" Howard frowned. "I didn't mean to. I just wanted to wake you up." James reached out and grabbed the edge of the blanket, wiping the sweat from his face onto the blanket. "Are you ok?" he asked. James glared up at him. "I'm fine." Howard looked at him oddly. "Are you sure? You kind of screamed at me-" "I SAID I'M FINE!" He punched the lamp beside his bed, the glass shattering as it crashed against the wall.

Howard grimaced. "Oh... ok. We are all going to target practice. Would you like to go? You loved it yesterday." James looekd away, not interesting. "What gave you that idea? Go target practice; you need it. You sucked at it yesterday." Howard's frown deepened once more, sad for his friend. "Are you sure?" James stood and threw the broken lamp at him. "Go away!" "If you need anything, I'll be in the Shooting Range." James nodded, sitting back down on his bed.

He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. His mind was blank, not a single thought filling it. He felt nothing, not sleepy, not sad, not guilty, not angry, not happy...

Hours seemed to pass, days, maybe merely minutes, before Kayden peeked into the room. "James?" "What." Not a question, a statement. "Are you okay?" James did not reply. "I thought maybe you would want to come out of the tunnel to eat dinner." _Have I really been laying here that long? _James asked himself emotionless. "Be right down," he said calmly. Kayden scurried off, the click of the door making James flinch.

A few minutes later, James stood and walked slowly down to dinner, touching the cold walls. When he climbed the stairs and clambered through the trap door, the heat of Cuban air hit him with reality. He immediately grew sweaty as he sat down at the large table to eat. The table was quiet except for whispers that buzzed in the small room.

He poked at the chicken on his plate. He had lost his appetite somehow. Howard gave him a friendly grin and attempted to start a conversation. "You should have been at Target practice, James! Jimmy shot a target 450 feet away with a pistol! It was so amazing." James nodded. "Fun." Howard gushed some more, hoping to get James interested and talking, trying to stop his depression before it took control. "We are leaving for Gary's make shift funeral in a few minutes. Are you coming?" Maybe that wasn't the best conversation starter.

"He's dead, you guys," he said with no emotion on his face. "He wouldn't care if we buried his helmet or not." Kayden jumped in. "But we want to be able to remember him somehow. We were thinking of making a gravestone, and burying his helmet by the Helicopter, but his body is probably already ate by buzzards." The image of the Helicopter flashed in James' mind, then the image of Gary's helmet flashed, and then the blood dripping from the side of his mouth. His hands grew sweatier then they were, his heart racing. "He's dead, and I don't think we should go by the helicopter, his body is still there, but decayed and gross, and he's dead so why bury him? It doesn't matter to him he's dead..." Lindsay replied, "But we do not want to forget his noble act. He sacrificed himself for us." James stood and grabbed the edge of the table. Out of anger and flipped the table over, the food flying everyone.

"Gary is dead, not coming back, he can't think, or breathe, or- or even CARE if we bury his freaking helmet!" He kicked the table, laying on it's side. He stormed off to his rooms, his sweat leaving condensation on his chair. Howard rubbed his temples as James stormed from his room.

Lorence stood from his chair; "He is suffering from PTSD, isn't he?" Howard replied softly, "I think so." Jimmy frowned, leaning forward. "Same here. He wouldn't talk to anyone, and he gets randomly angry, and he was shaking. And Howard said James had a nightmare?" Howard nodded. "And threw a lamp he had punched at me." Kayden jumped in and said, "He also wouldn't come down to Target Practice, and when I asked him to come to dinner he said, 'Just a minute', and it took him a half hour to get down here.

Brian smirked. "These aren't losses, my friends. It's entertaining and amusing." Sierra glared at him. "That's my friend, Brian. And you don't even care that he is going through freaking DEPRESSION." Jimmy mimicked his smirk. "And if I remember clearly, you went through depression, too." Brian's face fell. "In fact, you cried when you your nightmares." Everyone at the table laughed as Brian stood up and left, mumbling something about the bathroom.

"All jokes aside," Lorence said, "PTSD is a very serious condition. People can grow suicidal, become prone to violent outburst, or become active in illegal matters. They often lose interest in things they used to enjoy, feeling hopeless or detached or indecisive, or even jumpy. People suffering from PTSD often have flash backs or dreams that have physical reactions; a racing heart, sweaty palms, etc. Tired, but can't sleep, upset stomach and can't eat, and lots of other things like headaches. They can become nervous, helpless, numb, or even just shocked. They usually try to avoid anything that reminds them of the 'accident', so some good therapy would be getting him used to those types of things again-"

Kayden interrupted, "So, for, like, serious, you think James is suffering from PSTD?"

"Yes." He replied before continuing. "Easily upset, guilt, feeling lonely despite the fact that everyone is with you, and many other things are also common symptoms." He stopped as Howard said, "James fits most all of those." Jimmy frowned. "Well, what do we do now? We can't just send him off to fight like this!" Lorence grinned. "That is where I come into play. I studied Psychotherapy for three years in college before I joined the Ghosts." Jimmy stood and smacked his hands together, a loud clap resounding. "Then you have to help him."

Lorence chuckled. "I can't." Jimmy groaned. "You just said you could!" "I never said that. I said that was where I came into play, not that I could help him." Lindsay sighed. "Then how are we going to help him?" "I'm going to help you help him." Howard looked at him, puzzled. "James does not trust me enough to talk to me. But he trusts you all."

Howard grinned. "I'm listening."

* * *

**Author's Note: **PSTD is a very serious condition, and is not some made-up disease for this story. It is a disorder caused by very traumatic events.

Just for next time, James is suffering from PSTD. He is becoming depressed after losing Gary. He has never been through anything like this before, and has practically gone into shock. BTW, if you are looking at this story for the fights, they're coming later. ;)


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